


Holding Out For A Hero

by Millennial_Medusa



Series: PJO/HOO Baseball AU [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Honestly it's not that angsty Percy is just dramatic, Light Angst, baseball AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 11:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15533631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millennial_Medusa/pseuds/Millennial_Medusa
Summary: Percy just doesn't know when (or how) to quit.





	Holding Out For A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> I got a request for the backstory of why Percy isn't the starting pitcher, so here we are! I love reading everyone's comments about enjoying the series, so if you have any specific questions or requests, feel free to hit me up in the comments or on my tumblr, millennial-medusa. Enjoy!

“Jackson!” 

Percy turned, surprised to hear Jason’s voice behind him. He’d been distracted, rolling his shoulder slowly and carefully so as not to draw any attention to it. 

“You strike out, Grace?”

Jason rolled his eyes and adjusted the brim of his cap. “It’s only the fourth inning. Besides, Beckendorf is still on second and I’m sure Yew can get at least a walk now that I’ve tired the pitcher out a bit for him.”

Percy snorted a laugh and rubbed absently at his shoulder. “That pitcher so bad he’d let _you_ tire him out?”

“He wouldn't be the first,” Jason snorted. Then, suddenly more serious, “You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been rubbing your shoulder, and you haven’t been in the bullpen since the second. That’s not like you. Your shoulder alright?”

Percy’s eyes snapped up to his. The truth was he’d let himself get carried away too early, and now his shoulder was…well, it wasn’t feeling great. He’d hoped he just hadn’t warmed up enough, that he’d be fine by now, but so far the pain was only getting worse. 

He knew he should probably slow down, let Chiron know. Maybe even let one of the student athletic trainers take a look, or wrap it, or something. But he also knew that Chiron would pull him if he knew Percy was in pain, and as a freshman starting pitcher, this was his chance to look good for recruiters. He needed them to notice him early. And he needed this series to go well. And he needed his shoulder to not be doing what it was doing right now. 

He hesitated a moment, but Jason would want him to tell Chiron or might even tell him himself, so he tried for a casual smile. “Nah, man, I’m fine. Just trying to keep it loose.”

Jason eyed him suspiciously, but both boys were distracted by the cheers of the crowd—Beckendorf had scored a run. They ran to congratulate him; Percy winced at the pain that shot through his arm when he slapped Beckendorf on the back, but, thankfully, no one noticed. 

“Percy, you ready?” Chiron asked once they’d quieted down a bit. 

He nodded, discreetly rolling his shoulder a little. “As ever.” It wasn’t too bad. Not bad enough to bring it up. He’d just be careful. 

“Keep an eye on number 12, you’ve been pitching fastballs but he seems to expect it now, so I’d change it up.”

Percy nodded again, distracted. 

Chiron noticed. “You sure you’re not too tired out? I’m sure Lee’s ready to—”

“No,” Percy insisted, turning to meet his eyes. “I’m good to go.”

Chiron’s mouth set into a grim line. “Percy, I know you don’t like being taken out, but no pitcher can play though entire games. You’ll wear yourself out.”

“It’s only the fourth. I’m fine, Coach, really. I’ve gone way longer.” It was true: usually he tried to push into the seventh or eighth, though Chiron had gotten stricter as the season went on. Percy was the best pitcher the team had seen in a long time, and he knew it. Fletcher was good, but he was a senior, so he'd be gone at the end of the season. Percy needed to prove just how good he could be, and he was the team’s best bet at winning consistently. Grace could only make so many home runs; Percy could keep the other team from scoring. 

It took some of the pressure off the other guys, and they played better that way. Percy could handle it. 

Chiron nodded tensely, and Percy jogged up the steps and onto the field with the other guys as the inning ended.

He circled his arm lightly as he walked, though it didn’t seem to be helping. Reaching the pitcher’s mound, he took a deep breath and felt his entire body relax a little. This was familiar territory; the mound was home for him. His shoulder was a little achy, sure, but that wasn’t going to stop him from giving these batters hell.

Glancing at the stands to his right, he found Annabeth easily, her shock of blonde curls bright in the sunlight. He could see her smile from here, bright and proud and reassuring. She was with his family—his mom and stepdad, and little Stella—as well as Grover, and he waved at them. They cheered loudly in response, and Percy laughed a little before turning back to the opposing batter, who was getting in a few last practice swings.

He caught the ball Jason tossed him easily and twisted it in his hand, running his fingers along the familiar stitching. It was one of his favorite feelings, never failing to focus him back on the task at hand, back into the game. His world narrowed to him, the batter, and Jason. He tugged the brim of his cap and buried the ball in his glove, digging his cleats into the packed dirt below him.

From there it was all instinct. Percy didn’t have to think when he pitched anymore, not like when he was younger and thought through every movement to make sure his form was perfect. By now he’d pitched so many times that he could do it in his sleep, and he knew it’d be perfect just about every time.

His sinker ran in at the last second, and the batter didn’t even swing. Strike one.

Percy rolled his shoulder lightly. It was aching more, but if he could just ignore it long enough to get through this inning, maybe he could wrap it when he got back to the dugout.

Jason threw the ball back to him. Percy adjusted his cap, got into position, reared back, and threw. Palmball. Swing and a miss. Strike two.

Percy returned the grin Jason sent him from behind the catcher’s mask. He was in the zone— _and the strike zone,_ he added with a laugh to himself. Annabeth would probably have punched him for that. And yeah, he deserved it, but it was true and he was one strike away from getting rid of this batter and he barely even remembered his shoulder was sore.

One fastball and the batter struck out, earning an enormous cheer from the crowd. Jason fist-pumped the air, and Percy couldn’t help allowing himself a small but smug smile. Normally he tried not to celebrate himself too much—he didn’t want to be That Asshole, and he certainly didn’t want to tempt fate—but his family and friends were cheering in the stands, his teammates were celebrating wildly, and even Chiron was smiling at him from the dugout. Percy was feeling good.

In fact, Percy was feeling too good. And he should've known it wasn’t going to last.

The next batter up was number 12, a tall, lanky guy named Whittaker that Percy had pitched to three times and had yet to strike out. Percy set his jaw as he looked him over; he wouldn’t let this guy past him again.

Percy started with a sinker again. They were his favorite, and the way they ran down and in on batters at the last second (at least the right handed ones) made them almost impossible to hit. This guy, however, didn’t seem to have too much trouble with it, and Percy’s heart sunk almost as quickly as the ball had.

Luckily, it went foul, and Percy took a deep breath. Chiron’s warning came back to him—number 12 was starting to expect his fastballs. He needed to throw him off, pitch him something he wasn’t expecting. 

He adjusted the brim of his cap. Sliders weren’t his forte, but he could use them when necessary. And from the way the batter was staring down Percy with an obnoxiously smug grin, he was feeling pretty cocky. There’s no way he would expect a slider.

Percy reared back and threw, putting in as much force into it as he could. The ball looked like it would be out of the strike zone, and, just as he had hoped, Whittaker didn’t swing. At the last second, the ball swung back in—it was a strike. 

But Percy barely processed any of this, instead overwhelmed by the searing pain radiating from the front of his shoulder down the side of his arm. He’d been able to block it out before, but as soon as the ball left his hand it had become too much to ignore, and he staggered forward slightly, letting his glove fall off his other hand so he could grip his shoulder.

In a flash, Jason was next to him, grabbing Percy’s good shoulder to steady him.

“Percy? What’s wrong?” he was asking, his mask shoved up haphazardly. 

Chiron and the athletic trainer, Hedge, hurried over to join them, Hedge pushing Chiron’s wheelchair across the terf as quickly as he could. Jason pulled Percy over to meet them.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, gritting his teeth. “It’s just sore, but the pain is already going away.”

“Don’t be stupid, kid,” Hedge snapped. “If you’re hurt, you need to tell us.” Chiron placed a hand on Hedge’s arm as if to placate him, but Percy was familiar with the gruffness of the short, rather squat coach and knew it came from a place of concern.

“Gleeson’s right, Percy. Lee is ready to step in for you. Our primary concern is your safety,” Chiron said quietly.

Percy glanced around. The stands were humming with a nervous energy. Annabeth and his mom was on their feet, watching anxiously. His teammates were starting to gather closer, and Jason’s brow was furrowed in concern. He couldn’t afford to let them down.

“If I haven’t been able to strike out number 12 then Fletcher definitely won’t be able to,” he said, returning his gaze to meet Chiron’s. “We can’t afford to let him score or he’ll tie up the game, if I can just—”

“Shit, Jackson, your shoulder is swelling,” Jason interrupted suddenly, tugging up the sleeve of Percy’s jersey tentatively.

Hedge jostled forward to take a closer look as the referee jogged over to talk to Chiron.

“How long has your shoulder been bothering you?” he asked as he examined it.

“It’s not…” Percy started, but Hedge silenced him with a lifted eyebrow and his classic “I don’t believe that bullshit for a second” look, so Percy swallowed and tried again. “It’s been a little sore the past few nights, and it started hurting in the second inning today,” he answered truthfully. “But I think I just didn’t warm up well enough, it’ll be fine—”

“Not warming up doesn’t lead to swollen shoulders, Jackson,” Hedge growled. “Does this hurt?” He pushed on the swollen skin, and Percy bit back a groan with a reluctant nod. Then Hedge tested his range of motion and amount of pressure Percy could apply, all of which made made him wince and made Hedge’s frown deepen, which was not exactly reassuring. Percy was feeling more and more miserable by the second.

After a minute, Chiron, who had been watching them with the ref, wheeled closer to Hedge. “The game needs to go on. I’ll put Lee in and we can continue the examination in the dugout, and determine whether he needs to see a doctor.”

Hedge grunted in assent at the same time as Percy yelped, “No!” The wide eyes of Chiron, Hedge, and Jason all turned to him at the outburst. “I’m fine, I swear, I’ll rest up after this but I need to finish the inning.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jason said incredulously. “Percy, your shoulder is swollen. You can’t even move it without wincing, let alone pitch.”

“Grace is right, you need to quit now before you do any more damage,” Hedge added. “Actually, you should’ve quit a long time ago, but apparently you refuse to stop even when you need to.” 

He knew they were right, but Percy shook his head adamantly. If he was out and they lost, it would be his fault. The score was already tied, if stupid number 12 or anybody else got past Fletcher they’d be in trouble and it would be his fault, and he was sure Jason and Beckendorf and the others could make up the difference but if they couldn’t, if the defense is what tripped them up the loss would be on him, _it would be his fault,_ and—

“I can’t quit now,” he pleaded. “Just this inning, I’ll be fine, I—”

“No.” Chiron’s voice was stern, sharper than Percy was used to hearing it. “You’re out, Jackson. That’s final.” He turned and headed back towards the dugout, Hedge beside him. 

Jason squeezed Percy’s good shoulder. “Chiron’s right. Go. We’ve got this.” He tugged his mask down and headed back to home base, everyone on the field returning to their assigned positions as Lee Fletcher jogged past him to the mound with a somber nod.

Brimming with frustration and embarrassment, Percy scooped up his discarded glove and headed to the dugout.

—

Several hours later, Percy pushed into his dorm to find Annabeth, Jason, and Grover waiting for him. Grover he’d expected, given that they were roommates, but Annabeth and Jason surprised him a little. He’d been planning on calling them when he got back.

_Of course they’re waiting here, dumbass, they’re your best friends and girlfriend._

“Percy!” Annabeth yelped, launching herself off his bed to give him a careful hug. “Are you okay? What did the doctors say? We’ve been worried sick! You could’ve texted, you know. I almost called your mom.”

He gave her a quick kiss to stop her babbling before pushing further into the room and dropping his stuff in a heap. “I’m fine, guys. Well, not fine, exactly, but I will be.”

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Jason asked. He leaned back in Percy’s desk chair, the picture of nonchalance, but Percy could see the tension in his body and the worry in his eyes.

“It’s a strain, basically,” he said, avoiding their eyes and hoping they wouldn’t press further. His family and Chiron knew all the details, and he already felt like an idiot; he wasn’t exactly proud of how far he’d pushed himself.

Grover swallowed his mouthful of chips—finishing off one of several small bags, Percy noted, seeing the empty bags piled up around him. Grover was a nervous eater. “What does that mean, ‘basically’?”

He sighed and sank onto his bed, Annabeth sitting beside him. “Well, it’s a little more serious than a sprain…tendonitis, actually. My rotator cuff. But I didn’t tear anything, which is good. That would’ve required surgery and months of recovery.”

Jason cursed and ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

“What is that?” Annabeth asked with a frown. “Tendonitis, I mean.”

“Basically, the tendons in and around my shoulder joint are like…inflamed,” Percy explained, watching her gray eyes flicker as she absorbed what he said. Usually he liked watching her process information, liked being able to see her connect dots and piece things together, but she didn’t seem to like the conclusion she reached. 

“Why? From overuse?”

“Well…yeah. I mean, it happens to lots of pitchers, it’s the repeated overhand motion.”

“But in your case,” Jason cut in, “it’s overuse, because you don’t know when to quit.”

Percy felt his cheeks heating up at Jason’s stern gaze. “Probably.”

 _“Probably?_ Don’t give me that bullshit, Jackson, you know exactly how you ended up here,” Jason snapped.

Percy recoiled, blinking in shock. He’d never seen Jason so upset, and he’d certainly never snapped like that before. He found that he didn’t like being on the receiving end one bit. He studied his hands in his lap and ignored the tense silence around him.

“Sorry,” Jason sighed, finally. “I shouldn’t have…but it’s true, Percy. You need to learn your limits.”

Percy nodded, still refusing to meet Jason’s eyes. “I know. I just…I don’t know. I don’t want to let you guys down.”

Suddenly, Grover laughed, and the other three looked over at him questioningly.

“No, sorry, this isn’t funny,” he said when he finally got his laughter under control, “it’s just—the idea that you’d let anybody down is ridiculous. You’ve had a hero complex since…well, at least since I’ve known you, probably even before that.”

“I do not,” Percy protested.

“No, you definitely do,” Annabeth chimed in, much to Percy’s chagrin. “‘Hero complex’ pretty much sums it up.”

Jason nodded in agreement, and Percy found himself looking between them in bewilderment. He’d expected them to be worried over him, to ask some questions, to try to make him feel better. This wasn’t exactly where he saw his night going.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, miffed.

“Just, you know, you refuse to let anybody take responsibility but yourself,” Grover said with a shrug. _“You_ have to be the one to save the day.”

 _“You_ have to be the one to strike out every batter,” Jason added. _“You_ have to be the one to pitch as much of the game as you can, because you don’t want to share the responsibility.”

Percy clenched his jaw. He knew they were right. That was absolutely his thought process, and maybe it wasn’t that healthy, but…

“I just don’t want the pressure on the rest of you guys,” he said quietly.

Annabeth ran her hand softly through his hair, and he leaned into the touch. “They can handle it, Seaweed Brain. It’s not fair for you to do everything yourself.”

“And it ends with you straining yourself. Literally,” Jason said. “And then the pressure’s on everyone else anyway. How long are you out?”

Percy grimaced. “The rest of the season. I’m supposed to rest and ice it and take some meds for a few weeks, and then start physical therapy this summer.”

Jason nodded grimly. “Then you’ll be fine by next season?”

“Yeah, I’ll just have to be careful not to…you know. Go to hard.” He sighed and leaned against Annabeth, who looped her arm through his. “I just—I hate being taken out of games. I always feel like I could do more.”

“What if you didn’t have to be taken out?”

They turned to look at Grover, confused.

“No, I need to,” Percy said. “I can’t keep going at the rate I have been. Obviously.”

Grover raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, obviously. But I mean…what if you asked Chiron to make someone else the starter? You could go in later in the game, so you don’t wear yourself out, but you can play until the end.”

Percy glanced at Jason, both of them thinking it over. Finally, Jason shrugged. “No harm in asking.”

—

As it turned out, Chiron had had that same idea himself, and agreed it was the best plan for next season.

“But until practices start next fall, I want you resting that shoulder,” he ordered. “No practicing on your own time, or trying to work out more than your physical therapist says. Nothing. I need you fully healed if you expect to get off the bench at all next season, Percy. I can only accept the best from you.”

Percy nodded somberly. “You got it, Coach.”

He turned and started to leave the office, but paused at Chiron’s call of his name.

“You were wrong about Lee Fletcher,” Chiron explained, eyes shining. “All it took was a few changeups to strike number 12 out.”

Percy laughed and headed out. He still didn’t like the idea of leaving his team without him, but he knew they’d be okay without him. He needed to let them pull their own weight. It would take some work to be really comfortable taking a step back, but with Annabeth, Jason, and Grover helping him, he figured there wasn’t much he couldn’t do.


End file.
